


Day 1: Chocolate

by thebright1



Series: An Ineffable Plan: A Canon Compliant Love Story [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Eating, M/M, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, disappearing penis, lusting, making an effort, mentions masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22520329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebright1/pseuds/thebright1
Summary: “Strawberry creme!” Aziraphale declares. He sounds.... upset?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: An Ineffable Plan: A Canon Compliant Love Story [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620406
Comments: 7
Kudos: 157





	Day 1: Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> All the works in this series are also posted as a chaptered work for easier reading/downloading: [ An Ineffable Plan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23081191/chapters/55213303)
> 
> Originally written as a stand alone work for the Ineffable Valentines 2020 Challenge on Tumblr.

April 20, 2003

Crowley is coming apart piece by piece.

Aziraphale is halfway through the box of chocolates and every time he sees the angel’s teeth press delicately against the edge of the confection he wishes fervently that it was his skin there instead. His vivid imagination thinks about Aziraphale’s teeth pressing into the skin of his throat, gentle at first, then harder and harder, riding the border between pleasure and pain.

The chocolate shell bursts and pink creme appears on Aziraphale’s upper lip. He makes a noise of surprise, glancing towards Crowley. Crowley tries very hard not to think about other times the angel might make that sound. What other delicacies he could put between those soft pink lips. How they would feel against his cock.

Crowley takes his wine glass and puts it to his lips, taking a long sip. His throat is very dry. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep sitting here. He knew bringing Aziraphale chocolates was going to be agonizing ecstasy. He’s already half hard and grateful the angel can’t smell the lust dripping off him.

Aziraphale’s tongue darts out to remove the creme, pink on pink. He wiggles a little in his chair. Crowley bites the inside of his lip, clamping his jaw together tightly. He wonders if Aziraphale would wiggle pleasantly like that during sex. How it would feel to have that plush arse brushing against his hard cock. Would Aziraphale’s tongue slip out to wet his lips as he sank himself onto Crowley? Would he make that delighted hum and press their bodies together, a tease, a promise, a vow? Crowley thinks about that pink tongue, the soft mouth connected to it. He thinks Aziraphale will taste like chocolate and-

“Strawberry creme!” Aziraphale declares. He sounds.... upset?

“What?” Crowley asks. He closes his mouth, shifts in his chair, crosses his legs to hide his erection.

“This one was strawberry creme!” Aziraphale is definitely upset. “The box said there weren’t supposed to be any duplicates!” He picks up the candy box and his face twists into a moue of disappointment.

Crowley clears his throat and tries to think of something to say that doesn’t start with ‘Would you like to suck on me instead?’ He comes up with “Oh, yeah?”

Aziraphale nods vehemently. “And the map was wrong! How very disappointing!” He holds up the chocolate map, detailing where to find each type of confection in the box.

“Well you seemed to like it well enough,” Crowley says and inwardly winces. Is he showing his hand? Does Azriaphale know he was watching so closely?

But Aziraphale is, thankfully, oblivious to his friend’s struggle. “Strawberry creme is my favorite— I wanted to save it for last.”

Crowley mentally files that information away for future fantasies and resolutely tries to focus on the discussion topic and not on the mental image of Aziraphale, brought to his wits end with teasing, begging for release, begging for Crowley to make him come and fucking loving it...

“Yeah, that’s uhh, that’s...”

Aziraphale is looking at him strangely. “Crowley are you feeling all right?”

Shiiiit, he thinks. “Yeah, me? Fine, fine, me, just, uhh, just thinking that’s a terrible disappointment, right? I mean, well, it should be a crime!”

“A crime?” Aziraphale is definitely looking at him strangely.

“Yeah, angel, absolutely, they can’t be allowed to sell disappointments like that!” Crowley banishes his Effort as he stands, pulling at the waistband of his pants to hide what he’s done. “I’m— I should go and tempt the bastards!”

“Tempt them?” Aziraphale has put the box aside. “Tempt them to do what?”

Crowley has not thought this through, but he has been in this position many times before and has never let it stop him. “Well, to... to... do a better job!”

Azriaphale smirks, “Crowley I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.... that’s my job, dear boy.”

In for a penny... “Yeah, but that’s what we do for each other, right? Do for each other? I mean do each other’s jobs sometimes? You know, our arrangement?” Crowley puts his wine glass down. This situation is rapidly going downhill and he needs an exit strategy fast.

“I don’t know that I would bless them to never make a mistake again,” Aziraphale says. He pops the rest of the chocolate into his mouth and closes his eyes while he chews.

Crowley blows out a breath, before remembering he had banished his Effort. Well, sex is mostly a mental game anyway, right? That explains it.

“No, but I can definitely go get you a box that has the chocolates labeled correctly! Be back in a tic.”

Crowley turns up the collar of his coat against the cold London rain and heads towards the door. Maybe a quick wank will help keep him under control and his 6000 year . . . friendship intact. He has his hand on the doorknob when he hears, “Actually, dear, could you get me a box with all strawberry cremes?”

FIN


End file.
